


Anyway

by Anonymous



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Epistolary, First Kiss, Get Together, Letters, Love Confessions, Love Letters, M/M, somewhat? like its just a long letter written from ransom over time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 02:04:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7666138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, you see, I think I’ve loved you from the start. I wasn’t sure how to start this, but I guess here we are, right? Another beginning.  Even before we met, I guess I knew you were it for me. Well, maybe not, because I didn’t really know you existed, but let’s call it a gut feeling.</p><p>[Ransom writes an undelivered letter to Holster, because maybe he's been in love with him for 4 years or something.]<br/>[Warning for excessive use of the word fuck]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anyway

Well, you see, I think I’ve loved you from the start. I wasn’t sure how to start this, but I guess here we are, right? Another beginning.  
\- - -  
On that first day, I saw you on the ice, and something just… Clicked. Like, oh, it’s you, the one I’ve been waiting for all my fuckin’ life. It’s always been you, too, though. When you asked who I’m holding out for or whatever, asked me who my type was, whatever, it was you. Even before we met, I guess I knew you were it for me. Well, maybe not, because I didn’t really know you existed, but let’s call it a gut feeling.

Fuck. I’ve loved you for four fucking years, dude. Like, maybe it was “guy love”, drift compatibility, soulmates, swolemates, best fuckin’ friends, whatever. Yeah, you’re my favorite person ever, my best friend, all that jazz, but I think there’s more to this now, at least for me. Either way dude, it’s love, right? Shitty’d probs kill me if I thought platonic love wasn’t a thing, and it wasn’t as valid as whatever this is. But that’s the thing, the plot twist, the one part that throws it all off, is that I don’t know if it’s platonic anymore. I don’t know what this is.  
\- - -  
God, do you remember that one night, December of junior year? No, I doubt you’d remember. Still.

Mind if I refresh your memory?  
\- - -  
It was cold, fuckin’ cold as like, Canadian Satan’s ass, and we were kinda snowed in the Haus. Now, as a strong Canadian, I can handle the cold here, don’t take this the wrong way. But you can’t. I noticed in our frog year, you know? Noticed just how much you bundle the hell up, just how much more tactile you are when you’re cold, all these little things pointing to your lack of cold tolerance. Added that to my ever-growing list of “shit I know about Holster”, right under childhood crush on Han Solo, cannot handle the cold. So, even before we picked up residence at the Haus, we started this whole cuddling thing. Now, you’re one hell of a cuddler, dude. Like, drunk or stoned or sober, awake or tired or asleep, you’re the most tactile dude I’ve ever met. You know that already. Anyway.  
\- - -  
You’ve gotta remember that we lived in the same building in our frog year. So, we met on the ice, there was the initial hesitation of not knowing each other, and then -BAM-. Best fucking friends, right? So, like, it got to be winter pretty fast. Time flies when you’re chilling with your best friend and all that. So it was cold as fuck-all, you’d already established a very physical side to our friendship after just a few months, and winter hit and you were like a fuckin’ ice cube, dude. You were cold, I can’t sleep most of the time, the heater in your room was busted, so you started staying with me most nights. You remember that, Holtz? 

We’d stay up real late, watching bad TV shows, asking each other personal questions, I’d keep you warm with blankets and hot chocolate. Most of the time we’d both just fall asleep in my bed, and we hardly even bothered with the whole ‘one of us taking the couch’ problem. We’d keep the blankets cocooned around the both of us, your cold-ass feet pressed against my leg, still fuckin’ cold in the socks you borrowed, you’d be all curled up and tucked under my arm. It kinda became a habit, sleeping like that, waking up with you all wrapped up in my arms. That’s the best sleep I’ve ever had, not just back then, but even now any time I’m with you.  
\- - -  
Anyway, junior year, and we’ve both got nowhere to be for the first week of break. It was fuckin’ cold, like most Decembers here, so there we were, snuggling to keep you warm in the bottom bunk. Not that we really needed that excuse anymore. My main problem, I think, is that I let myself wish too much. Let myself, even for a second, toy with the idea that there could be something there.

Anyway.

It was December, and you were all curled up next to me (honestly, the most confusing and cute thing about you is just how tiny you can make yourself if you try. Well, not the most confusing and cute. There’s the whole factor of your ridiculously large head, and the way your smile lights up a room, and how you look at me sometimes like I hang the stars in the sky. Is it weird to call that cute? Anyway), I was just kind of holding you there, and I was thinking. I was thinking about you, about how much I care about you, and what you think, and your stupid smile and stupid glasses and stupid hair. That’s when it kinda fuckin’ hit me, dude, and maybe I was reading too much into it, but I think you could tell how I felt too. Like you can tell how I feel even now. Anyway.

In the morning, you woke up, and you kissed my cheek before wandering down into the deserted Haus to make coffee. That hadn’t happened before. That kiss felt like a punch in the gut, and I don’t fucking know why. Do you know why? Can you tell me?  
\- - -  
Why am I writing this, trying to remind you of something I don’t understand, if I’ll never give you this letter in the first place? Whatever.  
\- - -  
You know how I like my coffee. That shouldn’t be a big deal.  
\- - -  
Yesterday, you literally yelled at the frogs and the rest of the team not to bother me while I was having some anxiety shit in the library, and there’s that time you threw a mini-pie at some dude, and fuck. I love you. Anyway.  
\- - -  
I love you, and I’m fairly sure by now that it’s not just a friend thing, and frankly it’s scaring the shit out of me. Did you know that, Holtzy? We’re like, freakily on the same wavelength most of the time, and I feel like you probably know exactly what I’m thinking right now.

Are you thinking it too?  
\- - -  
It’s three in the morning, and I know that you’re still awake. I know you won’t be able to sleep until you know I’m alright, you told me that much once. I’m alright, by the way. You think I’m doing homework, and I was earlier, but I finished that. I’m just updating this stupid letter I started a month ago. I love you. I hope you know that by now. I’m gonna go lay down, in your bunk, and hold you close and we can both pretend we’re sleeping for a while. Then we’ll both fall asleep at some point, at the same time, because that’s how it works.  
\- - -  
It would be so easy, really, to tell you how I feel. You probably know already, it’s like you’re in my head sometimes, so you probably know that I mean a little bit more when I tell you that I love you. Not that I say it out loud too often. Maybe it just feels a bit too honest, and it’ll hurt to have you take it in a totally bro-way. Anyway, I could tell you, if I was brave enough. Walk into the attic and say, “Holster, I’ve been in love with you for four years.” God, maybe I’ve been in love with you for four years, and that’s terrifying. I could accidentally tell you while drunk or stoned or whatever. Give you this stupid letter. Stay quiet and hope you’ll figure it out, and hope that you feel the same way. I know which one I’m partial to, at least at the moment.  
\- - -  
You keep asking me if I’m okay. Like, even more interest than usual in my wellbeing. It’s not like I can say that I’ve been feeling terrible because you don’t know I’m in love with you. And, fuck, Holster, I think maybe I’m in love with you.  
\- - -  
Nursey has become my unofficial comrade in “sad d-man pining”. In case you were wondering where I keep going with him, we go to the park or Annie’s or wherever and complain about how fucking oblivious our line partners are. He’s a pretty cool dude, if you kinda look past that whole “chill” exterior to see who he really is. He does kinda drift off a lot and stop talking, and I’m pretty sure he’s coming up with lines and metaphors in his head. It’s quiet, but nice.

God, no, Nursey and I are not hooking up. Stop asking. I’m not saying that he’s not hot, he’s gorgeous, but he’s not my type, as I’m clearly into ridiculous blondes. By which I mean you. Like, everyone else I’ve considered romantically for the last few years has been like, compared to you. I’m surprised I didn’t notice this earlier, but I love you.  
\- - -  
I had the passing thought that I should put this notebook somewhere more private, so you don’t find it. Part of me just wants you to find it, and do what you will with this information. Not talk about it, stop talking to me, take it as a joke, whatever. Maybe you’d kiss me. Who knows.  
\- - -  
Hey, Holster, I love you. Listen, you know what happened. You were there. Hell, you fuckin’ did it in the end, didn’t you? So I guess that’s the answer, then. You felt it too. Y’know I never thought this would happen? I was fairly sure that if either of us did it, it was gonna be me. That it would have to be me or nothing, and I’d fuck this up and we’d stop being friends because you didn’t feel the same way as I did, and that would just be the end of the best fucking relationship I’ve been part of. 

But then, you fuckin’ did it, Holtzy. You just grabbed me and kissed me, and I kissed you right back, because, fuck, I’ve been waiting my whole life for this I love you. And I think, if I’m really, really lucky, you might just love me back. Alright.

You were worth waiting for.

-Ransom

P.S. Is it too early to say that I love you, that I’ve always loved you? Because I’ve been saying it to myself for a month, I guess. I love you.

**Author's Note:**

> well this was fun!! I wrote this last night because i couldn't sleep, and managed to decipher my handwriting enough to type and publish this. Enjoy!  
> [tumblr @ranholts/@bvckybvrns]


End file.
